Kira Orior
by Dominus L
Summary: The human whose name is written in this note shall die.' Harry Potter didn't believe this at first. The power of the simple notebook proved him wrong. Harry Potter will become justice. Harry Potter will become Kira. Crossover with Death Note.
1. The Black Book

**Kira Orior**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This is a work of fanfiction written for non-profit use.****  
**

**Chapter One**

-The Black Book-

_The human whose name is written in this note shall die._

It was raining in Little Whinging. Quite appropriate, Harry thought, considering the mood. The Dursleys were put off because he was back for yet another summer and Harry was, putting it mildly, angry due to recent events. His godfather had just died recently, his friends were put into the hospital, and, worst of all, he found out that he was prophesized to kill Voldemort.

His eyes gazed out the window of the smallest bedroom, a frown on his face. Thoughts were mulling in his brain, thoughts of the battle in the Department of Mysteries, thoughts of the past year, thoughts of the coming war. Harry was troubled, not by the thought of killing, though. He had reconciled himself with this fact days ago. The thought of killing Death Eaters and Voldemort did not put him off, after all, they were nothing but a poison to this world. No, what troubled Harry was _how_ he was supposed to kill them. He was nothing more than a half-trained, average at best, underage wizard. Much more experienced wizards like Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody had been fighting this war long before him and were barely able to keep Voldemort from taking England.

Albus Dumbledore's face crossed Harry's mind, driving his frown into a deep scowl. Albus Dumbledore was a problem. He had been able to do much thinking on his Headmaster during the weeks he had spent in Surrey. There was much about the old man that made no sense to him. Why had the old man never been there to help when Harry was in the worst trouble? The incident with Quirrel, the trouble with the Heir of Slytherin, Peter Pettigrew, the Triwizard Tournament, and the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore, when he did show up, only came when Harry was inches from death. Those were not even the worst things. Dumbledore knew about the prophecy since before Voldemort even murdered his parents, yet he had done nothing to train Harry, the mind-rape sessions with Snape not withstanding. Dumbledore was rating pretty low in Harry's opinion currently.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted, however, by a streak of black falling outside of his window. Harry blinked, then looked down. A small, black object could be seen sitting in the middle of the wet driveway. WIth a frown, Harry stood from the chair in front of his desk, grabbing a jacket. Making sure that his wand was with him, he left the room and headed downstairs.

Vernon was at work, as usual; Petunia was at one of the neighbors, likely gossiping. Dudley was the only other one in the house, but he was enthralled by his television and didn't seem to care what Harry was doing. The bespectaled boy took an umbrella from the stand, opening it as he left the house. The black object in the driveway turned out to be a simple notebook. He frowned, moving the umbrella to look up at the sky, trying to figure out where it came from. Seeing nothing but clouds and rain, he knelt down, _'It could be a Portkey, a trap by Voldemort... Then again, I doubt Voldemort would try the same trick twice, unless he thought that I would think that, then... Stop second-guessing yourself! Might as well pick the damn thing up...'_

Harry's hand reached down and closed around the notebook. He held his breath, waiting for the familiar jerk of a Portkey, but it never came. He let out the breath, then tunred it over. On the cover were the words 'DEAtH NOtE' in a strange silver writing. His frown deepened, but he decided to get back inside before he looked at it more closely. Once back in his bedroom, he dried the cover with a shirt and sat back down in the chair. He flipped through the black notebook. It was filled with normal, lined paper. He was about to throw the thing down on his desk when something on the inside cover caught his eye. He froze, then opened the book all the way. Written in the same, silver lettering were several lines:

DEAtH NOtE

How to use it I

# The human whose name is written in this note shall die.

# This note will not take effect unless the writer has the subject's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

# If the cause of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the subject's name, it will happen.

# If the cause of death is not specified, the subject will simply die of a heart attack.

# After writing the cause of death, the details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

Harry scoffed and tossed the book onto his desk, "Some people are sick," He said quietly. He shook his head and picked up his Charms book for the coming year and began to read. However, he couldn't help himself from glancing at the book again and again, _'What if...?'_ He set his Charms book aside and, after hesistating for a moment, took up a quill and dipped it in a jar of ink. He went past the few pages of rules to the first empty page and set his quill down on the paper. After a few moments of thinking, the name _'Vernon Dursley'_ was written on the paper in Harry's messy scrawl, _'It's not like this'll work anyway.'_ He chuckled slightly, then wrote a bit more after the name, _'After confessing his years of money embezzlement from Grunning's Drills to his boss, Vernon Dursley dies of a heart attack.'_

Several hours later, Harry had fallen asleep. His dreams, while turbulent, were much calmer than usual. So it was that his most peaceful sleep in many weeks was broken by the shrill shriek of Petunia Dursley. Harry's eyes snapped open and he ran downstairs, catching the tail end of his aunt speaking to his cousin, "-eart attack... He's... He's dead!" Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, Harry gazed up in the direction of his room where a simple notebook lie on his desk. A small grin grew on his face.


	2. Shinigami

**Kira Orior**

**Chapter Two**

-Shinigami-

"Did you know that Shinigami only eat apples?" The voice broke Harry out of his half-sleep. He had been even more troubled for the past five days, ever since the notebook had come into his life. Petunia had gone down to the hospital to identify Vernon's body and the police, it seemed, were taking an interest in the Dursley's bank account. Dudley was stunned by his father's death; he hadn't come out of his room since it had happened. Harry, though, felt a strange elation, 'The power he knows not… The power of the Death Note?' He had not, however, written anything else in the notebook. He had had enough problems with magical books before. He had never heard of anything with the power of the Death Note before, though.

"Apples in the human world are… How do you say it…? Juicy," Harry leapt out of his bed, wand in hand. It did not prepare him, however, for the sight he saw. The thing hanging from his ceiling was only visible from the waist up (or down, if you prefer). It had a vaguely human shape, but it was most definitely not a human. It had wide lips, drawn into a cruel smile. They did little to hide the sharp teeth that filled it's mouth. It's hair stuck straight up and it's yellow eyes bulged from it's head. It wore black clothing, contrasting with it's white skin. He fell down to the floor, the lower half of his body emerging though the ceiling. He stood, but even hunched over he was much taller than Harry.

"What… What in Merlin's name are you?" Harry managed to choke out.

"Merlin?" He, for it was obviously a male, let out a loud, biting laugh, "You mages never change, still referring to Merlin like he was God. Humans are hilarious. But, as to your question," The thing bowed, "I am a Shinigami. You English types call us 'Reapers'. In simple terms, I'm a god of death. You can call me Ryuk."

While Harry attempted to digest this, Ryuk continued, flipping open the notebook, "Hm, I can see that you know by now that this is no ordinary notebook." Harry blinked, but then nodded, wiping the surprised look from his face,

"A god of death, huh? Now that I think about it, I guess it's not really surprising that you're here. Let me guess, that notebook is yours, right?" Ryuk shook his head,

"It was mine. I dropped it. The moment it landed in the human's world, it became of this world. The moment you picked it up, it became yours. It belongs to you now."

"To me?" Harry looked at the notebook thoughtfully, "What now? Are you going to take my soul or something?" Ryuk gave him a strange look,

"What's that? Some myth humans thought up? I'm not going to do anything to you," He gestured with one arm to the Death Note, "If you don't want it, give it to some other human. I'll have to wipe your memories of it, though." As soon as Ryuk said it, Harry knew that he wouldn't do that. He didn't trust it in the hands of anyone else. He chose his next words carefully,

"So… There's no price for using it?"

"Aside from the fear and terror experienced by those that use the Death Note, no." Harry let out a dry chuckle,

"If there is anything that I can handle, it's fear and terror." Suddenly, there was a loud bang on his door and his aunt opened it. Harry spun around, trying to think of some excuse for Ryuk, "Aunt Petunia!" His concern turned out to be baseless, however. The horse-faced woman didn't even seem to see the Shinigami,

"Look, boy, I am… I am going to the funeral home to continue the arrangements for Ver- Vernon. Don't bother Dudley." She shut the door without another word.

"Only those who have touched the Death Note that was once mine can see or hear me," Ryuk offered by way of explanation, "Do you have any apples?" Harry turned and gave him an odd look,

"…Apples?"

"For me... apples are like cigarettes and liquor for humans. If I'm deprived I go into withdrawals." Harry gave him a deadpan look, but decided not to ask. He left the room and returned a few moments later with three apples in his hands,

"Here," He handed them to the Shinigami, who proceeded to wolf down the three pieces of fruit,

"Apples taste so much better in the human world," Ryuk said past a mouthful of said fruit. He almost reminded Harry of Ron for a moment. After he had swallowed the last of the apples, he spoke once more, "So, what are you gonna do? Give it away? Keep it?" Harry answered immediately,

"I'm keeping it. It's mine. Maybe… Just maybe I can use it to help the wizarding world, to remove the disease of the Death Eaters." Ryuk let out another unnerving laugh,

"You sound a bit preachy there, Harry." Harry glared at Ryuk, but then laughed,

"Maybe. But I should get started." He sat down at the desk and could feel Ryuk watching over his shoulder. He picked up a ballpoint pen this time and wrote three words down under his uncle's name, _'Tom Marvolo Riddle'_.

Forty seconds passed. Another forty. Harry was confused. He didn't know what he expected to happen, but he expected something. His scar bursting into pain, a flash of light, a vision of Voldemort grabbing his chest, something! Nothing came however. He turned to look at Ryuk who was, oddly, trying to hold back a bout of laughter, "What are you laughing at, reaper?" Harry asked harshly, "This damn book of yours is broken!" Ryuk let loose his laughter,

"You- hah ha- read the- hah- first rule! Hah ha ha hah!" Harry went back to the inside cover, the first rule standing out, _The human whose name is written in this note shall die._ Harry looked back up,

"I don't understand." Ryuk shook his head at the boy,

"Your Lord Voldemort isn't human anymore. You couldn't tell that by how he looks? He looks more like a Shinigami than a human. Besides, he already died once before. You killed him, remember?" Harry growled and hit the desk,

_ 'What good is this damn thing now!?'_ He seethed, but calmed down once he realized that the notebook was not worthless at all. An odd smile appeared on his face as he began to write, names spilling from his pen.

_Antonin Dolohov_

_Walden Macnair_

_Lucius Malfoy_

_Rodolphus Lestrange_

_Rastaban Lestrange_

_Augustus Rookwood_

_Vincent Crabbe Sr._

_Gregory Goyle Sr._

_Leonard Nott_

_Daniel Avery_

_Gabriel Jugson_

_Bellatrix Black Lestrange_

Harry wrote the last name forcefully, a gleam in his eye. He had just killed the entire Death Eater force that had fought in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. It was not enough, though, Harry told himself. Voldemort had many followers. The wizarding world had many more criminals. This was just the beginning.

Harry snapped the notebook shut. He needed more names. More pictures. He wouldn't find them in this suburban house in Surrey, not since he stopped his subscription to the Daily Prophet, anyway. He needed to leave, _'Diagon Alley. It should be safe enough, now that I've effectively wiped out at least half of Voldemort's Inner Circle. But…'_ He frowned. If he knew Dumbledore and the Order, they wouldn't take kindly to him leaving the Dursley's. It was time for some… drastic measures. He opened the notebook and began to write again.

_Petunia Dursley - Car accident_

_Dudley Dursley - Alcohol poisoning_

Six minutes and forty seconds later, Harry could hear Dudley leave the room and head downstairs. Harry knew it was to break into the liquor cabinet, which the Dursley's kept well-stocked. Strangely, Harry didn't feel the least bit of remorse for his actions, _'They were in my way. Besides, they got what they deserved.'_ He began to pack his things.

An hour later, Harry, under his invisibility cloak, left the house. It was likely that the Order still kept a lookout. He would need to get rid of whomever it was. It didn't take him long to figure out the identity of his guard, but, by the stench of alcohol, Mundungus Fletcher was not much of a guard. Harry returned to his room, passing the cooling body surrounded by empty bottles that was once his cousin. Throwing the cloak off, he wrote the Fletcher's name in the Note. After a moment of though, he wrote a bit more, _'- Misplaced Blasting Curse'_. He threw the cloak over himself and his trunk and left the room for good, "You are becoming quite ruthless, Harry." Harry ignored the Shinigami as he followed the invisible boy out of the house.

As Harry made his way off of Privet Drive, a large explosion and a smoking crater were the only signs that Mundungus Fletcher had been there.


	3. Boy Who Killed

**Kira Orior**

**Chapter Three**

**Boy Who Killed**

It had been three very busy weeks since Harry had last been on Privet Drive. It had also been three weeks since he had used the Death Note. He had made his way to London with a train ticket paid for by some Muggle money he had stashed away. He had decided early-on that the Leakey Cauldron would be the first place that the Order would search for him, so on his first trip to Diagon Alley he had had some galleons converted to pounds, intending to stay in a Muggle hotel.

Harry knew that he had something with untold power. He also realized that he was in a very large amount of trouble. No one could know of the Death Note. If Dumbledore, Snape. or Voldemort ever looked into his mind again, they could see it clearly. Thus, Harry's first order of business was a crash course in Occlumency. The only problem was that, no matter how much self-teaching he did, he needed to test his shields. Surprisingly, the answer to that problem came from the Ministry of Magic.

Harry had discovered a passage in a book on Legilimency that all Legilimens were required to be registered with the Ministry, akin to the register of animagi. Luckily, these registries were available to be viewed by the public. So, keeping the hood of his cloak up, Harry risked a visit to the Ministry. He considered himself luckier than God that nothing had picked up the reaper that was following him, and he was more surprised to see that he had yet to pass an order member in the halls.

Harry was going into the belly of the beast: the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He had no illusions that they would be happy to see him. He managed to find the Department of Mental Magics nearly empty except for one old, sleeping wizard, "Excuse me." He waited for a few seconds, then repeated himself, louder, "Excuse me!" The sleeping wizard woke grumpily, looking around, then focusing a glare on Harry,

"Whaddya want?" Harry matched his glare, but kept calm,

"I need to see the Legilimens Register," The wizard, grumbling about annoying kids, reached under his desk and thrust a small, dusty book at him. Harry took the book and flipped it open. He went past the pages of the deceased, coming to the more recently-registered names. The list was very short and, unsurprisingly, seemed to lack the name 'Severus Snape', _'Of course, if the Ministry knew about him, they wouldn't allow him to read his students' minds,'_ Harry shook his head, then returned to the task at hand. He wrote down some of the names on the list, then handed the registry back to the old wizard and made his way back out to Muggle London.

It took several letters, several days, and a very large deal of traveling on Hedwig's part, but he had managed to find himself a teacher. He struck a deal with a young woman named Merrie Kenwood, a witch who had seemingly left the wizarding world. Over the next two and a half weeks, he forced himself to master Occlumency. Harry was aware of the danger. She might see the Death Note in his mind during one of their sessions. If that happened, though, he didn't find himself averse to the thought of killing her. Luckily, for her, it never came to that. By the time they had spent three weeks constantly together, Harry had been able to successfully defend against her attacks without a great deal of effort. They parted ways afterwards, Kenwood leaving with her pockets a great deal heavier.

And now Harry found himself in a bit of a dilemma. His birthday had come and gone; he had sent the owls that had come to him away. He supposed that he had just managed to keep away from the Order, switching hotels every few days. He had suspected that there was a tracking charm, or several, on him. Luckily, it turned out that Kenwood had knowledge of those things, and, for a fee, she had removed all tracking charms on him. He had also kept his magic use down, too. Kenwood had told him that the Ministry could only tell where magic was used, not who cast it. Seeing that he was in the Muggle world, though, he decided that it would be suspicious if he used his wand.

It was the middle of August by the time Harry had made another trip to Diagon Alley. He had subscribed to several news papers, such as the 'Daily Prophet' and the 'Global Oracle'. He had not known that there was a world-wide wizarding newspaper, but it put things into perspective. His most helpful subscription, however, was the aptly-named 'Nemesis Report'. It covered wizarding crimes, trials, and convictions around the world.

For the first time in several weeks, the Death Note sat open in front of Harry, newspapers spread out to either side, and a pen in his hand. As he was about to begin writing the first name, he stopped cold, an odd look in his eyes, "Eh? Something wrong?" Ryuk asked after a moment of no movement from Harry. Harry ignored him, however, as he was fighting a mental battle with himself,

_'Do I have the right to do this? Just because I have the power to kill people, should I use it? What gives me the right to take people's lives like that? Isn't that what Voldemort does? He wants to cleanse the world of people he thinks shouldn't be allowed to live, too.'_ His fists clenched at the thought of him becoming like Voldemort. Something inside of him responded to that thought, however, _**'No. It is not the same thing. Voldemort is an evil person, you are good. The people you kill will die for a good reason. These dark wizards do not deserve to live. They deserve justice.'**_

----------

The name originated somewhere in the Japanese wizarding world, but it spread quickly, as things of this sort tend to. Even a fool could see that someone was killing off criminals and dark wizards. They called him Kira, but only in whispers. None of the major newspapers had started to report Kira yet, still calling the deaths 'mysterious'. They would, though.

Harry thought the name was a bit unoriginal and insulting when he first heard it. They were basically calling him 'killer'. He paid it no mind, however. They did not understand what he was doing yet. These dark wizards were a poison that was killing the wizarding world. He didn't just stop at Death Eaters. Dark wizards from all over the world fell to his pen, clutching their hearts futilely. Harry's mind returned to the present situation, though.

The date was September the first, in the year of our Lord Nineteen-Hundred and Ninety-Six. Today was the day that Harry Potter, Kira, returned to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He was sitting in a compartment in the back of the scarlet train known as the Hogwarts Express. He had actually debated with himself over whether or not he would return for his sixth year, but he decided that it was for the best. He needed to keep himself as unsuspicious as possible. He was slightly dreading seeing his friends again.

In an action that would seem random to passers by, he conjured an apple and tossed it at the empty seat across from him. Ryuk caught it and took a bite, "I'm surprised your wizard apples don't taste different from regular ones." Harry smirked at the reaper,

"Magic can be more useful than you think, Ryuk." Ryuk grunted past a mouthful of apple in reply, then popped the rest into his mouth as he heard the compartment door open. Harry looked up to see a girl already dressed in her robes. Her tie and the accompanying patch indicated that she was in Slytherin. Harry tried to recall her name, "You're… Greengrass, right?" He didn't recall writing any Greengrasses in the Note, so he was unsure if she had Death Eater ties. She had a look of slight disgust as she spoke,

"Wow, so Potter can remember my name. That's more than I expected of you, Potter. Unfortunately, I either have to sit with the baby Death Eaters and hear them whine about their mommies and daddies, or you. Sadly, you are the better option," With that, she sat in Ryuk. Harry choked slightly as the girl disappeared into the much larger death god, "What's wrong, Potter? No witty remark on how I'm just like them?" It was a bit disconcerting hearing the female voice coming from Ryuk's chest. Ryuk decided to have a bit of mercy on the boy and moved over. Harry, now able to see Daphne, managed to come up with something to say,

"Not really. Just because you're in Slytherin doesn't make you a dark wizard. Not all dark wizards are from Slytherin," His thoughts drifted to Wormtail, but he banished that from his mind, "You can't mean that you're angry that dear old Drakkie-poo won't be able to say 'When my father hears about this…' again?" Harry let out a sardonic laugh. Daphne allowed a small smirk,

"To tell you the truth, Potter, I always thought Malfoy was a little bitch. That one has some daddy issues. So," she had decided to change the topic, "what do YOU think about Kira?" Daphne was actually interested in what Potter had to say. She figured that he would say something along the lines of 'Kira is wrong' or 'He shouldn't be killing people' or some other Dumbledore-enriched quote. She wasn't prepared for his answer,

"If I was Kira, I'd probably be doing the same thing. Merlin knows that the DMLE isn't doing anything to stop these criminals. They deserve to die." Daphne raised a brow at him,

"Heh, you're not Kira, are you Potter?" Harry snorted derisively,

"Sure, and you're Voldemort in disguise," they shared a small laugh, but it was cut short when the door opened again. Standing in the door in all their Gryffindoric glory were Harry's two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Ron's grin at seeing Harry turned into a very nasty look as he saw Daphne,

"What are you doing here, Greengrass? Get out and leave Harry alone," Harry stopped him with a raised hand,

"She's alright, Ron." Ron looked at Harry, scandalized,

"But Harry! She's a Slytherin! She's evil!" Hermione picked that moment to step in,

"Harry's a Parselmouth, does that make him evil? Come off it, Ron." She pushed past the red-haired boy and sat next to Harry, giving him a hug, "We were so worried about you, Harry! Right?" She added the last part while giving Ron a look. It took a second for Ron to catch on,

"Oh, er, right! It's good to see you, mate!" Ron closed to door and took the seat next to Daphne, although it was clear that he didn't want to. Unfortunately for Harry, that put him inside of Ryuk. Said reaper just rolled his eyes and stood up. With a jerk, the train began to move.

The train ride was fairly uneventful, even missing out on the usual visit from Draco Malfoy. Ron and Hermione kept the topics of conversation light, not wanting to mention anything about the Order in front of Daphne. Daphne held her end of the conversation, managing to keep her biting remarks at the Gryffindors toned down. Ron, on the other had, was having a hard time not insulting Daphne. This resulted in several kicks from Hermione and Harry while an amused Daphne looked on. Oddly, the subject of Kira hadn't come up even once.

As Harry was beginning to relax, the train ride came to and end. The scarlet locomotive pulled into Hogsmeade Station. The trio and Daphne went their separate ways once it came time to get into the thestral-drawn carriages. The trio was joined by Neville Longbottom, who seemed oddly happy. It seemed that, among other things, the demise of the Lestranges did wonders for him.

Soon enough, the carriages reached Hogwarts.


End file.
